Nightmares
by Nekouyoku
Summary: Aziraphale comforts Crowley after a rare fright. Could be either romantic or platonic. Wings are involved.


What if I actually started uploading all this stuff I have rotting on my computer?

Disclaimer: I don't own, blah blah.

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Aziraphale shut the door behind him, the frigid air that blew into the house quickly returning to a more comfortable temperature.

"Crowley?" he called at the empty room. When no answer came, he simply continued to the kitchen to put away a few items he'd bought on the way back. He wasn't altogether bothered by the lack of response, because it was something of a given that they couldn't inform each other of _all_ of their comings and goings. Wiles and thwarting and all that.

Though, he did find it a little odd that the lights were on when he walked in to his supposedly empty house. He supposed he could have turned them on without realizing, but…

He frowned. He just didn't feel like he was the only one in there at the moment. After 6,000 years, they had become highly aware of each other's presence, and the angel was most certain that Crowley hadn't left.

Sleeping, then? At this time of day…?

Well, it didn't really seem so odd of the demon, now that Aziraphale thought about it. Crowley may sleep, but he didn't have anything even remotely resembling a sleeping _schedule_. Actually, it was more akin to narcolepsy.

"Crowley?" the angel called again, wandering around and checking the most likely spots to find a sleeping demon. Any of his guesses were as likely as his others, which is why he didn't immediately make his way to the bedroom. It was in the back of the house, after all, and the last place he'd found Crowley sleeping…well, he'd gone to go take care of something in the midst of folding his clean clothes, and he'd come back to find a snake coiled up in the dryer. As terrifying as that had been, he had to admit that it did sound rather comfortable.

But, when he finally reached the bedroom, the last place he knew where to look, he thought it was empty. From the door, he could see the bed, and if Crowley wasn't sleeping there…

Aziraphale stepped in, and immediately saw a figure in the corner, hugging his knees, staring unseeingly at the floor.

"Crowley!"

The angel ran over, dropping to his knees and placing his hands on either side of the demon's face, forcing yellow eyes to look into his own. Crowley stared, but it took a moment for him to really _see_. And when he did, he grabbed Aziraphale and hugged him so hard that the angel couldn't breathe, but as this wasn't much of a problem, Aziraphale just rubbed Crowley's back, his urge to comfort him overpowering his curiosity.

They sat there for a surprisingly short time before Crowley finally spoke.

"Wings…"

"Sorry, dear?"

"Wings. I want to see your wings."

Aziraphale only hesitated a moment before unfurling them, for once not bothering to be embarrassed about their state of disarray. Crowley's grip almost immediately relaxed.

"What's happened, Crowley?" the angel ventured. He felt the change when Crowley paused to consider the question, and didn't pursue it when no answer came. It didn't feel like the right time to force anything out of him.

They sat in silence for a while, listening to each other's habitual breathing. Aziraphale worried. Crowley seemed almost like a breathing corpse before he finally shifted positions, moving his arms from around the angel's waist, only to find himself a more comfortable position (in Aziraphale's lap, it seemed), and wrap his arms again around the angel's shoulders.

Aziraphale did his best to ignore the wet streaks running down Crowley's face. _Patience_, he told himself…but that didn't stop his curiosity from gnawing away at the back of his mind. Crowley? In _tears_? What could have possibly upset him that much?

He didn't have much time to consider when he felt a strange sensation near the base of one of his wings. After a moment's pause, he discovered that he was being preened.

"Your wings look horrid," Crowley said (continuing to fuss with the angel's feathers) with something of a lack of inflection that Aziraphale felt confident in assuming had nothing to do with the sincerity of the statement.

"Well, it's not as if many people see them nowadays…"

"That's not an excuse for keeping them like _this_."

"Oh, and you keep yours in perfect condition, do you?"

It wasn't a second after the words came out that Aziraphale knew he'd issued a challenge that he would inevitably lose. When Crowley let loose his tawny wings, they were picturesquely immaculate, all elegant curves and not a single ruffled feather in sight.

Aziraphale blushed, but his embarrassment was quickly overshadowed by the relief to see that Crowley was smiling at him. Smirking, actually, but it was close enough.

"Alright, alright," the angel relented, shaking his head slightly at Crowley's apparent need to keep up appearances even in terms of things that weren't _actually_ apparent.

"Well, turn around, then."

"…sorry?"

"You don't think I'm going to let you walk around with your wings looking like _that_, are you?"

"I could put them away, if you'd like."

"No, I'd know they're still there. I have to fix them."

He considered continuing the argument, but thought better of it. Aziraphale was intent on keeping Crowley cheered up, and, well, he quite liked the feeling of being preened, actually.

"Well…alright," he sighed, and turned around, taking care to not hit the demon with the brunt of his wings, though it couldn't be said that he paid much attention to not "accidentally" giving Crowley a face full of feathers. He smiled at the familiar protests, which soon enough gave way to thin fingers sliding along wings, straightening and smoothing, the occasional feather drifting to the floor. It was astonishingly relaxing, and Aziraphale guessed that if he was the sleeping sort of type, he would have dozed off not long into the process.

As it was, he was glad he didn't.

A short while after Crowley finished with one wing and moved onto the next, he spoke, interrupting the comfortable silence.

"I had a dream…"

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow out of habit, since of course no one could see. Crowley had never mentioned dreaming before. The angel was under the impression that neither of them were capable.

"Oh?"

"Yeah…"

When no further explanation was offered, Aziraphale let a few more minutes pass before breaching the subject again.

"Is that what upset you?"

Crowley's hands paused.

"…yes."

The angel tried to act casual about the revelation, but his wings gave a noticeable quiver that betrayed his worry.

"May I ask what happened?"

The demon didn't respond, but continued in his task. Aziraphale was close to giving up hope for an answer when one finally came.

"I…I lost you."

He didn't know what he had been expecting, but it wasn't that.

"'Lost'…?"

"You…had to go back to Heaven. Forever. And I knew that there was no way I'd ever…"

Crowley took a breath, trying to keep a quaver out of his voice that Aziraphale wasn't sure he'd heard before.

"Ever see you again."

Aziraphale didn't know what to say to that. He never imagined that losing him would upset the demon that much, but only because he hadn't considered that Crowley was as dependent on the angel as much as vise-verse.

"Well, it's alright. I'm here now," he said, glancing over his shoulder. To his relief, Crowley was smiling again.

"Yeah."

They were both content to sit in silence as the demon finished up his preening, not wanting to let a job go unfinished.

"That does feel quite a bit better," Aziraphale admitted after Crowley gave a couple of feathers one last smoothing.

"See? Told you."

He didn't bother mentioning that Crowley had not, in fact, told him that, and brought his wings around to look at.

"They're still not as neat as yours, are they…"

"Not really. Guess you're just fluffy."

Aziraphale resisted rolling his eyes.

"Thank you, dear."

"Um-hm…well, now you owe me."

"Do I?"

"Yes. Preening that mess took a lot of effort on my part, you know."

"As I recall, you're the one that insisted on undertaking the task."

"Shh…you owe me."

The angel sighed, wondering how long he was going to let himself give in to Crowley just because he had been upset. He'd most definitely have to stop by tomorrow.

"Well, alright. What do you want?"

"Lay down with me."

Aziraphale glanced back at him. Well, that wasn't so bad…

"Are you going to sleep on me again?"

"Yes."

He sighed, and deliberated for a moment before summoning a book to read.

"Very well."

Crowley grinned.


End file.
